One More Night
by BrookenLucas12
Summary: Try as he might, he's unable to speak. He grabs her by the hair, he strokes her on the cheek. The bed is unmade, like everything is. BL, oneshot.


**Author's Note**: God, I love one-shots. They're so much fun to write. And there's not that life-long commitment to the story hanging in the air. Anyway, this is based on the song, '_One More Night_' by Stars, and even has a couple lines from the song, so don't be surprised if you hear some. I'm reposting this one-shot, so it may look familiar. I didn't like the way I presented it before. So, thank you very much for reading.

**Also**: This takes place in the future. Lucas and Brooke are about twenty-seven or so, and everything that's happened so far on One Tree Hill has happened. Nothing that happens past this last episode, with Keith's funeral has happened. And, this is the tiniest bit graphic, be warned.

**_One More Night_**

Try as he might, he's unable to speak.

Tears spill from her wonderful hazel eyes, and she bites her glossy lip to keep from crying out loud.

Lucas can only watch as the love of his life pulls out a red suitcase from their mess of a closet, pushing any and all of the clothes she can find inside.

The words just won't come out, and he's no longer sure what he can do. She'd almost left thousands of times before.

But she'd never actually packed a bag. Not until tonight.

Slowly, Lucas advances towards her, feelings tears form in his own sky blue eyes.

He tugs at her body, pulling it closer to himself. He grabs her by the hair, he strokes her on the cheek.

Brooke feels weak in his arms; like she might collapse, or give in to his pleas. That morning, she'd promised herself it'd be the last time she let herself get sucked into his web.

He can't even wish her a measly apology.

She manages to look around at their apartment. The bed's unmade, like everything else. Clothes are scattered along the ground; mostly underwear and bras, she muses.

They had too much sex.

This is too hard. But she won't let herself give up.

Roughly, she pulls herself away from him. But he won't let her go.

He drops to his knees.

Says, "Please, my love, please."

A whimper escapes her lips. He continues.

"I'll kill who you hate. Take off that dress, you won't freeze."

Sighing carefully, she shakes her head, dropping his hands. She loves him too much. But she's not sure about him.

He takes her for granted.

Lucas looks up at her, from his place on the ground. At her beautiful, tiny frame. She'd lost weight over the years, along with her natural gleeful shine. She wore a red dress; one he'd remember always, after this night. The fabric of it was thin, and it went just below her knees.

Tears roll down his handsome features, and she scowls, returning to her bag.

"Please don't make this any harder, Lucas." She speaks for the first time in minutes.

"I love you." Lucas stands, pulling her in once more. He places a kiss on her hair, pulls up her dress, running his hands up and down her thigh.

"I can't do this anymore." She cries, pulling herself away from him; briefly glancing around at the scattered alcohol bottles around the place; at the dim light their bulbs can produce; at the rundown tiny, apartment they own.

"You can't just leave. We've been through too much together."

Too much, she agrees.

After the death of his uncle, the man had been broken. They'd graduated high school, and he hadn't lasted a couple months at a local college, before they'd scrounged up enough money to buy themselves a small apartment in New York City.

Pretty soon, she found herself too involved with him. She dropped out of college; left what could have been her career behind. She works various waitress jobs, and he works at a small office, doing basically nothing, and getting paid even less.

They never married. They never got engaged. Never planned on having children. Their relationship was full of sex, and tragic love.

"Lucas, stop."

He can't. He loves her too much. She needs to know that he'll die without her.

"Baby, I'll do anything."

He runs his hand farther up her leg. She's bare to him; no underwear, no bra. Shivering, she attempts to pull away.

"This is not love. I want a real relationship, Lucas."

He lets his hand play with her breast, and she moans, her legs going out. He catches her, and leans down to kiss her lips. Entangling his hand farther into his hair, he deepens their kiss.

She quickly pulls away, slapping him.

"You've cheated on me before."

"It didn't mean anything."

"You've strung me along in a relationship that's never going anywhere."

"We're living together. We're twenty-seven. We pay bills."

"No, we don't! Lucas, we have no power, except for these measly light bulbs that _I _had to pay for with my entire salary!"

"I'll take care of you. I'll do better, I promise."

"No. See, the thing is, Lucas, ever since your uncle died, you've not been able to _love_. You haven't been able to do better. You're not my Luke. You're this other Lucas, who I don't even know."

He doesn't know what to say. "Please don't leave me. I can't imagine my life without you."

"Lucas," She cries softly, "You're breaking my heart."

And her voice cracks. And he suddenly understands.

He looks down. His voice grows cold. "So, when are you leaving?"

"In a few minutes." She shrugs.

He looks up, surprised. He'd assumed she'd spend the night; leave in the morning.

"Please stay the night."

Brooke shakes her head. "It'll just make it that much harder when I leave."

"Let me make love to you one last time."

"Lucas.." And in seconds, he's removed her dress. And in seconds, she knows that she's staying the night, whether or not she wants to.

She knows that she wants to.

She wants to stay forever, deep inside. But she knows it's time to do what's best. It's time to grow up.

He places soft butterfly kisses on her face, in her hair, on her neck, knowing it's the last time he'll be able to do so.

Desire courses through her body for the millionth time that week. Only this time, it's different. She won't return home; This is the last time she'll feel this.

He kisses down her stomach, soon finding himself in between her legs. She moans and arches her back, and for a second - he thinks she'll stay.

"Lucas!" She can't stop herself, and she bucks her hips. He can't help but enjoy this.

He finds himself on top of her, pushing himself inside her. Their bodies move in sync. He knows her, and she knows him.

Immediately afterwards, they lay together.

He holds her close, never wanting to let go.

They stare into each other's eyes, and he wills himself not to fall asleep. To hold her forever.

He knows they'll never be friends.

Finally, his eyes flutter clothes, and tears begin to fill Brooke's eyes. She kisses his eyelids, and then his lips, ever so softly.

Pulling herself up, she quickly changes. It's just past three in the morning.

Grabbing her bag, she leaves the red dress on the ground. She knows he'll appreciate that memory of her.

Brooke walks towards the door; God, there were so many memories in this place. So many fights had taken place; so much love had been shared.

She sighs, and shakes her head, giving one last glance towards the sleeping figure on the bed, arm still around her invisible body.

"I love you, Lucas Scott."

She smiles sadly.

She knows they'll never be friends.


End file.
